


A Cold Restoration

by bourbonbucky



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Steve Rogers, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Pregnancy, M/M, Omega Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, memory recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5192339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bourbonbucky/pseuds/bourbonbucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier has been unmade over and over again, but there are some things that can't ever be destroyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold Restoration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuestingQuiche](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuestingQuiche/gifts).



> Quick note, in canon Howard Stark was killed in '91, but I've bumped it back to him finding Steve in around '82. Some canon details might be a little fudged, but I tried not to stretch anything too much.  
> This story is for my lovely follower [questingquiche](http://questingquiche.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, I hope this is everything you wanted, Mary!

Hydra found something important. Well, technically Stark found it, but secrets were never really secrets when you had spies for friends. There was an orphaned twelve year old somewhere now. Hydra deployed the Winter Soldier to thank Stark for his wonderful contribution.

The handlers were nervous, twitching and pacing, never looking directly at him. A few of them whispered about knots, mating cycles, the programming. He didn’t pay it any attention. When Hydra needed the Winter Soldier, he would know. The only reason he was awake was because of the new asset. New assets always went through trial periods. He was the deadliest weapon Hydra had, and if they truly wanted to protect the world then all new weapons had to be broken in properly.

This was different, though. They weren’t talking about the right tests. What little he could overhear didn’t sound like combat training or any assessment he was familiar with. The talking stopped as soon as Pierce entered the room. He pulled a chair over and sat down, a cheerful expression on his face.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about our new asset. I’m going to take you to meet him in a moment. He was in an unregulated cryogenic state, so he’s been healing these last several days. Right now he’s still sedated. I’m going to have you in the room when he wakes. After that, we’ll proceed to the next step in the mission. Do you understand?”

Pierce waited for him to nod his assent before standing and leading him out of the room. Everyone they passed in the hallways was whispering right up until they approached. Fear and excitement mingled together, the atmosphere charged. After three right turns and a left, they reached the proper room. The door was held open for him, so he stepped inside silently. It closed behind him, then locked. A two-way mirror was laid into one wall, and he knew that was where Pierce would be.

A hospital bed was in the center of the back wall, across from the doorway. He found his place standing at the foot of it, observing their new asset. The weapon was a man dressed in a hospital gown, definitely modified if Hydra was interested in him. There was something underneath the chemical smell of the medical equipment, something with... with heat.

He went rigid where he stood, both hands balling into fists. That was why Pierce didn’t detail the second step of the mission. This new asset was an omega. He was a modified omega. He was—

_—Buck! Buck, c’mon, the fireworks are gonna start soon!_

The buzz of the fluorescent lights drilled into his head, his vision blurred as he stared at the face of this... this omega Pierce was ordering him to guard. And for what purpose? The omega wasn’t badly injured, despite being improperly frozen. Whatever modifications he had, they had to have been well manufactured. Probably even better than his own. No missing limbs, no visible external damage, no—

_—no more coughing up a lung in the middle of the night, Buck. No more liver._

Buck... Buck.

He finally uncurled his fists and located the only chair in the room and pulled it up to the side of the bed. His reflection in the two-way mirror stared back at him over the omega’s body. The regular beeping of a monitored heartbeat provided some solace. This omega was important, not just as an asset to Hydra. He knew this omega. He knew—

_—Nice to meet you, James Buchan—_

The door opened and Pierce came back in. He stood on the other side of the sleeping omega, a smile on his lips. “He was created by our enemies. Do you recognize him?”

The Winter Soldier pursed his lips and focused on the omega’s face. He was not asked if he knew the omega, so he wouldn’t answer that way. Did he recognize the omega?

“He was... in propaganda.”

Pierce smiled wider and nodded. “He was. Now he’s ours. The serum he has is different from yours. What yours is missing is in his, and where his is lacking, yours has the proper components. We’re lucky that he’s an omega, and even luckier than he’s completely intact. The mission is to impregnate him and create more perfect soldiers that can spread peace to the world.”

As the Winter Soldier listened he could feel his heart rate rising. He remained still and calm externally. If he said anything they’d wipe him. He’d be made clean again. He needed to remember. There was something missing, something wrong about this mission.

“Do you understand your mission, Winter Soldier?” Pierce leaned in, an order for eye contact.

The Winter Soldier looked up and nodded, holding Pierce’s gaze until his superior was satisfied. Pierce left and the room was silent again. The omega breathed deeply and easily. It was comforting, but he couldn’t be sure why. He was just—

_—hey, hey, c’mon buddy, breathe. Stevie breathe—_

Stevie. Steve. Steve Rogers.

The Winter Soldier took a deep breath and tilted his head back like he was scenting the room. Trembling broke out in his right arm and he quickly suppressed it. They would know if he knew. There were vents in the ceiling that weren’t pumping air into the room. If he made any indication of panic or true recognition they would gas the room and he would never see Steve again. Pierce was testing him. Testing the programming. He needed to do his job.

Steve was still healing, it would take a few hours more, and they were going to use that time to assess his behavior around Steve. They could make more soldiers like him using Steve. Steve. Steve wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t supposed to be sleeping. He was supposed to be somewhere else. He was supposed to be... home. The Winter Soldier took another breath and relaxed his body. So many things were wrong with this.

He looked at Steve’s chest as it rose and fell, an echo of another image playing in his mind. A smaller frame, bony and fragile, a chest rising unevenly with wheezing breaths.

_—Bucky, you shoulda used that money for food for you, not buying me medicine.—_

Steve used to call him Bucky.

The Winter Soldier glanced up at the two-way mirror, then put his right arm on the mattress and rested his forehead against it. They could wake him up if they needed him.

_He smells like ass, he knows he does, but Steve still lets him in for a hug. “How was work, Buck?”_

_He shrugs and sniffs the air in the apartment, it smells delicious. Steve made him dinner. “They’re keeping me on for another week, maybe. Boss says he likes my work. I don’t know if I’m gonna stay, though.”_

_Steve frowns at him. “What else would you do?”_

_He digs his toe into the dirt. “Was thinking about enlisting.”_

_Steve’s eyes go wide. “Buck, wh—”_

The Winter Soldier’s eyes snapped open, his body tense. He remained still, his forehead resting on his arm, eyes and face covered from view of the mirror. They always knew when he was dreaming. He wasn’t supposed to dream. It was an anomalous behavior that needed to be corrected. He waited for the needle to pierce his side, for the sedative to make his mind numb and body heavy so he could be hauled away to the chair.

Twenty seconds passed, but nothing happened. He lifted his head slowly and looked around the room. He was still alone with Steve. They didn’t know, or they did and weren’t going to do anything yet. Maybe it was part of the experiment. Part of his mission.

A small noise from Steve caught his attention, the monitors showing Steve’s brain activity spiking. Colors bloomed across the map of his brain, cascading and jumping around in a light show as brilliant as fireworks in Brooklyn. Steve was dreaming, too. The Winter Soldier watched his face, remembering the color of his eyes under the twitching lids. A bright blue that turned silver in some lights. His eyes could look like a storm when he was angry, or like the brightest, clearest sky when he was happy. There was always a spark when he said the Winter Soldier’s name. Bucky. Bucky. He didn’t know if he was Bucky. Maybe he used to be, maybe for Steve he was. But for himself... he was the Winter Soldier. Steve was so important, though. More important than any mission he’d had since Hydra gave him purpose.

Steve would want him to be Bucky again. Steve would need him to be Bucky again. Maybe he could be Bucky again.

Another noise broke the silence of the room. Steve coughed, swallowing around the tight dryness in his throat. The Winter Soldier knew that dryness well. It was cold and harsh, it tasted like thin mountain air when all you wanted was to be by the ocean. Mountains always put him on edge.

Steve coughed again and his breathing sped up. He was waking. The Winter Soldier stood and put his chair back in its original spot before standing at the foot of Steve’s bed again. Within seconds Steve was awake, eyes open and unfocused. He took a few seconds to sit up, tearing off the sensors for the medical equipment.

Steve looked up at him and froze, mouth dropping open. “Bucky?”

The Winter Soldier suppressed a shiver that ran through his body, the weight of Pierce’s unseen eyes drilling into the side of his head. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

Steve stood up out of bed and rushed to his side, grabbing his shoulders firmly. The metal of his left side gave Steve pause, but didn’t repel him. They stared at each other, the Winter Soldier keeping his face as blank as he knew how. They had to believe he didn’t know who Steve was. His mission was Steve now. It was always his mission. They couldn’t have Steve. But if he was going to get Steve out and protect him, then he had to finish their mission first.

Steve cupped the left side of his head, his brows drawn and face filled with confusion and worry. The Winter Soldier didn’t reach out to Steve. He was accustomed to withstanding pain, and he could withstand this.

He looked off toward the two way mirror, trying to find Pierce on the other side of the glass. Steve followed his eyes and it only took a few seconds for him to understand. His hands dropped away and he took a small step back.

Within seconds the door to the room opened, two doctors and a nurse entering swiftly. One of them was the Winter Soldier’s doctor, the one that always checked his brain after they were done with the chair. He was a short man, very round and always talking at him like all of him was made of metal.

A syringe was in his hand, and he smiled pleasantly as he uncapped it. “I’m going to need you to hold still, Captain.”

Steve lunged at the doctor, and the Winter Soldier grabbed him from behind and restrained him. The doctors stood by, waiting for Steve to be subdued.

“Bucky, let me go!” Steve thrashed, but his body was still too weak after just waking up. He couldn’t escape.

The Winter Soldier pretended to struggle and in the process got his mouth right against Steve’s ear so he could whisper into it. “Not yet.”

Steve kept fighting for another few seconds, then slowly began to calm. He panted and put up a front of fatigue.

The doctor smiled wider. “Shouldn’t tire yourself out so early, Captain. We’re going to need you to save your strength for later.”

The Winter Soldier’s grip got tighter, and he growled under his breath as the needle sank into Steve’s skin. They exited quickly and Steve wiggled free. He checked the spot on his hip where the needle went in and ran his finger through some of the liquid leaking out of the puncture. They were hormones, thick and cloying with a spicy sweet smell.

Steve sniffed them and look up at him with wide eyes. “Buck, what’s going on?”

The genuine fear in his voice broke something in the Winter Soldier.

_—what do you mean you ship out in a month? Buck, that’s too soon!_

He looked back at the mirror again, imagining the face Pierce must have been making. So pleased that mission was going perfectly.

Steve grabbed his metal arm, pulling him until he turned and made eye contact. “Bucky?”

The name almost felt right when Steve said it. “We have a mission.”

Steve’s grip got tighter, his brows drawing together. He looked off to the mirror, then back to the Winter Soldier. “A mission?”

There wasn’t any escaping this room, let alone the base, without first obeying Hydra’s orders. Steve was a master tactician, as well-trained as any Hydra asset, he would follow the mission.

A thick scent started to fill the air, it had the same sweetness as the injected hormones, but it was warmer. The Winter Soldier scented the air, sniffing toward the vents, but Steve pulled on his arm.

“It’s me, Buck.” Sweat was beading up around his hairline, and his eyes were turning glassy. Soon even the thin gown he was in would be too hot. The hormones would soak into his blood the rest of the way and a full heat would kick in. “Is this our mission, Buck?”

The Winter Soldier nodded, silent against the barrage of emotion welling up in his chest. He should have been protecting Steve against this, but there was nothing he could do. An earthy, sweet scent poured into the air as sweat began dripping from Steve’s brow.

“Bucky.” Steve swallowed thickly and pulled him closer.

He remembered this, they’d done this before, this part. The careful touches and trying to soothe through closeness. Steve was so small and so fragile, there was nothing else to be done for it. Even being in heat was dangerous. It was—

_—Steve, Steve, dammit slow the hell down. You can’t, buddy we can’t, I’ll hurt you, Steve—_

Steve whined low in his throat, his body giving off heat like a living incendiary. His hands clutched at Bucky’s sides. He could be Bucky for this. Steve needed him to be Bucky for this. The memories were there, broken and buried beneath Hydra’s programming. They stripped everything out of him except the most primal instincts. There was no method of brainwashing that would ever erase the memory of his mate.

His mate.

Bucky growled and dug his flesh and bone fingers into Steve’s side, earning another low keen that vibrated in tune to the ache slowly spreading into his chest.

He sniffed at Steve’s hairline, his lips trailing across the shell of Steve’s ear. Anything he said had to be quiet. Pierce could never hear.

“Mate,” he whispered.

Steve shivered and nuzzled the side of his neck. The synthetic heat would drive him out of his head if they didn’t get started quickly. Bucky pushed Steve toward the bed, his throat going tight at how pliant Steve was to his touch. Trust. Perfect, implicit trust. He had to abuse it in order to save his mate. If they were lucky enough to get out of the compound he would beg forgiveness. The first time shouldn’t have been like this. Never like this.

Bucky tore the gown from Steve’s body and spared a second to look him over. No lasting injuries, no signs of extreme stress, just miles of creamy skin dripping sweat and leaking pheromones. He looked Steve in the eye briefly, grinding his teeth at the sharp edge of nervousness under the glassy hormone haze. With a touch he got Steve to sit up on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide. A sheen of slick covered his ass and balls already, and his cock was pointing up at his own chest. The sight was familiar but different at once. An echo of another war, another time where things were never right for them.

Bucky nosed at Steve’s jaw, drinking in more of his scent. He licked a path up to Steve’s ear, breathing heavily and keeping his eyes on the mirror. He nipped at the hinge of Steve’s jaw and made sure to plant his metal hand firmly on the bed. The weight of a rut was setting into his blood. The fine control he had over himself would break soon.

He leaned in close, his flesh hand groping Steve’s back, traveling down to his hips and ass. “I’m so sorry.”

Steve nodded, then hid the motion by letting his head fall back. “Fuck me.”

Bucky’s cock was throbbing against his fly, eager to sink into Steve as deeply as possible. He had to maintain control as long as he could. Steve tore his shirt open, hands immediately drawn to the webbing of scars that all led to his left arm. There was no hesitation as Steve leaned in and licked the seam where skin met metal. Bucky ground his teeth to keep from shaking, but a subtle tremble still ran through his body. He used it to shake his shirt off, eyes flicking up to the mirror every couple seconds. If this didn’t go exactly to plan...

Steve ripped his fly open next, startling him when there was suddenly a hand on his cock. He took Steve’s hands away, but it was too late, the rut was kicking in even faster. A perfectly willing omega in heat was practically trying to crawl into his skin. He was wanted, he was needed. This was his mate demanding him. His healthy mate, able to bear him children.

Bucky grabbed Steve’s thighs and put them over his hips. Children. Pierce wanted his children. That couldn’t happen.

Steve reached between them and grabbed his cock again, guiding him to the waiting, wet heat. He pushed in and groaned deep in his chest, pleasure and instinct clouding his mind. His arms wrapped tight around Steve, the will to hide his mate’s body and possess him unsettled by the knowledge that they were being watched.

Steve panted into his ear, his body radiating need and heat. “Bucky, c’mon, fuck me.”

Bucky closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. There would be no hiding that he remembered if he opened his mouth to speak. He had other ways to show Steve everything he would ever want to say. Their bodies moved together in perfect sync. When he pulled out Steve squeezed his cock, and each thrust back in he had Steve’s legs to pull him right back where he was supposed to be.

He kept his embrace around Steve’s body tight, holding him close enough that he would have crushed the tiny, frail man that once was. Steve was as strong as him now, probably stronger. They would always belong to each other. Hydra could never take away the mark of a mate, even when they cut off the arm Steve bit.

Steve seemed out of his mind, moaning without restraint between bouts of licking and nipping at Bucky’s neck. Every instinct told him to sink his teeth into Steve’s skin, to mark him over and over again until not even a super soldier’s healing could hide what they were. If there was a way to permanently mark Steve as his he would find it, he would make it so no matter who tried to rip his mind to pieces he would never be able to forget any part of Steve.

He could remember the smell of Steve’s sweat in their old apartment, the same scent but soured by sickness. It used to bother Steve, make him self-conscious, always putting some kind of perfume or cologne on after he finished stuffing his shoes with newspaper.

_—Stevie, you’re perfect the way you are._

Steve gasped, and Bucky panicked, worried that he’d spoken the memory aloud as he’d had it. Then he felt the tug of his knot pulling at Steve’s hole, barely able to slide out. He was so close to coming. They would be knotted, locked together while he filled Steve and knocked him up. All the plans they used to whisper back in Brooklyn, he would make it happen. He would kill the entire base if he had to. His mission was Steve.

He slammed back inside as the knot expanded fully and locked them together, growling and shaking when he felt Steve coming around him. Come splashed on both their chests, Steve breathless as his cock twitched while he was thrown headlong into a hormone high. Bucky grabbed him under the thighs and gingerly turned them around until it was him sitting on the edge of the bed. After a minute of moving slowly and carefully they were laying down facing each other.

Bucky’s back was to the mirror, still hiding Steve from Pierce. All that was visible of Steve was the leg he had thrown over Bucky’s side. Everything else was neatly protected behind a wall of Winter Soldier.

Steve frowned and murmured sleepily. “You’re a fuckin’ slob, Buck, didn’t even take off your shoes.”

Bucky wiggled his toes inside his boots and expertly suppressed the smile that wanted to curl his lips. His mother had taught him better, he thought. Anything not Steve was still in echoes and fragments. His head was all a mess except for the golden light of Steve’s face, the unerring anchor of his voice and scent. Whatever pieces were left of Bucky under Hydra, he could find them. They could find them.

Steve’s breathing evened out and his scent turned to something almost sugary sweet, his body momentarily satisfied. There was no telling how long they would be left in this room to fuck. Probably until there was no doubt that Steve had caught. The image of Steve’s belly swollen with pups lit a fire in Bucky’s chest, the insides of his eyelids pure red when he blinked. He had to be patient. Saving Steve meant patience.

He draped his metal arm over Steve’s body and let his eyes drift shut.

The door opened and Bucky was instantly awake. The doctor from before came in, two glass vials and a needle in his hands. He walked up to Steve with the needle ready and stopped short when he saw Bucky looking at him. He swallowed roughly, an audible click in his throat, then continued. Steve didn’t stir as the needle pierced his skin and blood was drawn. The doctor exited quickly after he was done, locking the door behind him.

He and Steve were alone again for however long Pierce wanted.

**11 Days Later**

He spent eleven days training other agents, functioning as nothing more than a testing ground. He was an obstacle course in the shape of a human being. No one said anything about Steve when he was around. All conversations about Steve would abruptly end and change direction. It had to be on Pierce’s order. Maybe the doctor said something, and now they were waiting to see if he broke.

Pierce found him in a lab with a technician working on his arm. Another upgrade, this one to make it quieter for stealth missions.

“Good news, your mission was a success!” Pierce smiled brightly, hands clasped together.

Bucky kept his face void of emotion, but his heartbeat was picking up. Steve was pregnant. They succeeded.

“You performed as well as I knew you would. Our new asset will be well taken care of.” Pierce nodded to the tech before leaving the room.

Well taken care of. They wouldn’t have moved Steve from the base, which meant he was still in the medical wing. There would be a crew working around the clock to guard and monitor him. There would only be one chance to get them both out. He had to move quickly.

**11:25 PM**

Half the base was vacated as night set in, all but the most essential personnel going home. Security was tighter than usual, but he’d anticipated that. The shifts were standard medium alert patrols. The hallways were checked by a guard every ninety seconds, and the corners were only free for five seconds as the guards made their turns. It wouldn’t be out of the question to see him in the hallways normally, but he was sure Pierce told them to keep him away from Steve.

His plan was precise, almost down to the second. The glass vial in his right hand felt heavier than a few ounces. Enough gas to put half the base to sleep, and it fit in his palm. Hydra was nothing if not efficient in their creations. Looping the cameras and disabling the alarms was easy enough to do from his own room, now all he needed to do was avoid the guards. Steve was almost all the way across the base, and even with the alarms down and cameras rigged it was a slim chance they could make it out quietly.

He slipped through the hallways silently until he found the room he was looking for. It was no bigger than a utility closet, every wall lined with wires and panels. The environmental controls were easy to locate. He slipped the vial into the right slot and watched as it was fed into the ventilation system. Everywhere but the medical wing and base security was going to be knocked out. Bodies fell in the hallway outside. He could smell the gas seeping in from under the door, but he wasn’t in any danger. There were very few agents in Hydra’s arsenal that could affect him, and all of them were lethal.

He ran through the halls, stepping over the bodies and grabbing their weapons as he made his way to Steve. The gas was already dissipating when he crossed over into the R&D wing. More guards were knocked out on the floor, but their weapons already pulled from their bodies. Bucky flattened himself to the wall and listened. Three hostiles were positioning themselves at the other end of the hallway. Another was walking toward him from the direction he’d just come. Medical was two halls over, and he was going to have to fight the rest of the way there.

The operative following him came around the corner and was killed before he could even aim. The others down the side hall were silent, waiting on him to make the first move. He took a breath and barely peered past the corner, just enough to shoot one in the head. A bullet hit the wall beside his face, forcing him back behind cover. He waited a moment, then turned again and eliminated the other two targets. All of the noise was going to draw the rest of the base that was conscious directly to his location, he needed to get moving.

He stripped grenades off of one body, grabbed spare clips, then kept moving. Over thirty operatives filled the final two halls, many of them coming from behind. The stench of blood and gunpowder filled the air, and for once he wasn’t muzzled against smelling it. When he reached the doors to medical the smell of distressed omega overpowered the carnage.

The doors were sealed tight, blast-proof and too strong even for his arm. He backed away and looked up at the vents, trying to formulate another way in. A banging sound startled him, his gun raised on instinct. Not a gunshot, too dull, not an explosion, too quiet. It happened again, and he nearly smiled. Steve’s shield.

Another bang had the doors open, Steve bulldozing through them and stumbling into the hallway. Blood splattered his face and his shirt, and Bucky already knew the doctors beyond the now-open doors were as dead as the targets littering the halls.

Steve rushed forward and threw his arms around Bucky’s neck. “Buck.”

Bucky buried his face in Steve’s neck, breathing in the sweetening smell of pregnant omega. “Yeah, Stevie.”

Footsteps echoed toward them, more agents following Bucky’s trail. He grabbed Steve’s hand and they ran. Strike teams gave chase all the way to the doors, pinning them down. Bucky ripped the pins out of all the grenades and tossed them, running out the doors with Steve by his side. The explosion came seconds later, both of them knocked down in the shock wave. His ears were ringing, but he could still hear Steve calling out to him in his memories.

_—Just go! Get out of here!_

He looked over at Steve eyes closed as he lay unconscious with a large cut to his forehead.

“Not without you.” Bucky quickly got himself up and grabbed Steve and the shield.

The base was down, now, silent and starting to burn. He found a car in a lot near the perimeter and set Steve in the passenger seat, then put the shield in the back with all of his weapons save for his sidearm. He sat in the driver’s seat and finally breathed for what felt like the first time in years.

Where would they go? Where _could_ they go?

**Four Months Later**

Bucky smelled the oil paints before he even opened the front door. He allowed himself a smile and went in to see Steve by the window, painting the Brooklyn skyline. Again.

A smile lit Steve’s eyes the same way it always did when he saw Bucky, and even more when he saw the food. The swell of his stomach was just starting, the tiniest bump beginning to fill him out. Bucky’s flesh hand always itched to touch. He didn’t think about how it happened, just that it had, that it was always going to no matter how. There was no life he could live where this wouldn’t have been, he knew that. Hydra tried their hardest, and they failed.

“Heard from Peggy again, she says Director Fury is making headway in the Hydra purge. She says it’s your intel making it possible.” Steve kissed him briefly, grabbing the bag of food at the same time. “It’ll take a while, but she says everyone is confident that the cleanup will be complete.”

Bucky nodded and sat down at the kitchen table, watching Steve pick through the snacks he bought after his therapy appointment. “Does Director Fury know about our baby?”

Steve shook his head. “Peggy won’t say anything. But, she does want to know if we have any names picked out yet.”

Bucky looked off at the dozens of paintings Steve had already done, the sketches that were littering almost every flat surface. One in particular was stuck in his mind, the face blurry in his own memories but pristine in Steve’s.

“I was thinkin’, if we have a girl, we could name her Sarah, after your ma.” Bucky looked back to Steve, pleased at the bashful smile and slight blush he earned.

Steve nodded. “What if we have a boy?”

Bucky looked down at the table, his throat constricting before he swallowed it down. “I, uh... maybe... maybe Howard?”

Steve grabbed his metal hand and forced him to look up. There was never any malice, any disappointment, any shock or disgust. One of their only friends, the person who saved Steve’s life, and Bucky had—

“That’s a great idea, Buck. You know he’d get a kick out of it, too.” Steve smiled at him the same way he always did, like love was enough to fix every broken thing in the world and in them.

Bucky was almost ready to believe it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave me a comment and let me know what you think.


End file.
